Ron Weasley and the Fate of the Wizarding World
by Shinoga Hibiki
Summary: A certain agent of the PTB presents a certain wizard with a choice that will determine the fate of the people he cares about. The PTB never said she couldn't have fun with the assignment.


Disclaimer: All characters belong to their respective creators.

Warnings: Implied violence, mild gore, foul language, gay sex, bondage and domination.

Ron stared. There was little else he could do despite the Hermione toned voice shouting in the back of his mind to stop being both rude and an idiot. The woman standing in front of him was gorgeous but her clothes were just so bizarre. As she walked closer to him her spiked shoes click clacked on the pavement. White fabric danced around her legs, showing off one perfectly tanned leg through a thigh high slit. More white desperately clung to her goddess like torso allowing the movement induced by her brisk pace to be made all too apparent. And her painted red lips floated in Ron's vision spilling out words. Wait words, Ron shook his head dumbly and tuned into her voice instead of her visage.

"Hello Earth to Ginger Boy? Geez what is it with me and the slack jawed cave man types," if possible her voice was even stranger. If forced to place it Ron would have to guess American, but for now he just tried to respond.

"Ah hello?"

"Oh good my awe inspiring beauty hasn't rendered you mute, not that I could blame you if it did. At least I know how to look good." Her eyes flicked up and down Ron quickly as though a longer look might cause her physical harm. The unpleasant expression on her face made the Weasley boy glance down at himself.

"Bloody Hell! Why am I wearing a loin cloth?" His hands clasped in front of his dangly bits as if to ward of any offending breezes. "And where's my wand?"

"Default mode. It takes some practice to get any thing that doesn't look like it came out of a bad Roman movie. Looks like you don't even rate a toga. As for your wand…do you really want me making a comment about that?" She glanced pointedly at the fabric around his hips.

"AH! Don't look at that!" He would have turned around but for the draft he was pretty sure he wasn't imagining on his back side.

"Not much to look at really. But that aside I'd really like to get this over with, I've got an appointment that I'd much rather be at."

"Get what over with? I don't understand what is going on?" Ron could hear the whine in his voice but didn't really care.

"Where are we?" The woman's voice cut through his hysteria just a little.

"We…" Ron stopped focusing on covering his bits long enough to look at his surroundings. White, everything was white. White marble columns supporting white gauzy fabric. White stone floors littered with white leaves from white trees growing in patches of white grass. White water pouring out of white fountains with little white fishes swimming in them.

"Stare at it long enough and you start to think you've gone blind. You'd think they could at least pick a less boring color." As she spoke Ron focused back on her eyes widening at just how vibrant her tan skin and dark hair were after all the white.

"Am I dead? Harry said there was an awful lot of white," Ron managed to squeak.

"Not yet, trust me you know when you die." The faraway look in her eyes actually made Ron think before speaking again.

"Then if I'm not dead then where am I?"

"Hey maybe you do have a brain under all that red hair. You are in a place of balance and choosing," the woman sighed as Ron's eyes seemed to cloud over, "Think of it like being on the tip top of a mountain. Sure it's peaceful and all but you can't stay there forever you have to choose which way to go down. You can pick the same way you came up; it seems familiar but may have changed already. You can pick a new way that looks easier but may be more dangerous. You can even pick the way that looks the hardest but might be the safest. But no matter which way you go you don't know what you are getting into until it's too late to change course."

"That sounds bloody awful."

"Sounds a lot like life if you ask me. But we're here because you are the lucky puppet chosen to make a choice that will determine the future of most of the people you care about." Ron's mouth flapped for a moment after she spoke.

"Chosen? Who in their right mind would choose me for something like that?"

"Me." A small smirk twitched at her lips.

"What! Why? You?" The last a plaintive whine.

"Look at you with the one word questions, next you'll be asking two and three word questions. They grow up so fast. Yes I chose you. As to why well you kind of remind me of some one I knew, he wasn't quite as dumb as you but still I think you'll make the choice I want you to."

"Why do I have to do this?"

"Oh well technically I could just send you home," Ron felt his head nodding as she spoke, "But then more people will die than if you just made a choice."

"What?" Ron's head froze at the word dead and he barely managed to whisper his question.

"Oh didn't I say that to start, I guess I should explain a bit better."

"Please?" She seemed to take pity on him and guided him over to a bench that he was pretty sure wasn't there a minute ago.

"You'd better sit down. Ok basically there are three major possible futures for you and your little group. You guys earned enough favors from the Powers That Be that they are letting one of you choose which one you get. The catch is that you get to pick from the top two and if you don't man up and make a choice the worse automatically happens. Oh and you only get to see a few minutes from each of the possible futures to make your choice." She waited strangely patiently for Ron to stop hyperventilating.

"Why me? Hermione would be such a better choice."

"One," the woman held up a hand ticking off fingers as she went, "She'd be way too logical about it. Two I don't trust know it all little book worms. Three what kind of girl takes that long to find a way to tame her hair."

"Harry?" Ron whimpered too panicked to defend his new wife.

"He's too emotional and temperamental. Not always a bad thing but this will hit a little too close to home for him to not be stupid about it." When it became clear that Ron didn't have any clue what to say to that she sat down next to him. "If it makes you feel any better any choice you make means fewer people die early deaths."

"Can I make a choice where no one dies?"

"Everyone dies eventually kiddo. Your choice just changes the when where and how."

"Can you tell me about my choices?" Even as he spoke her head was shaking gently.

"No can do but I can show you more once the choice is made, explain to you the whys and once you leave here you won't even remember making the choice." She looked genuinely sorry at the situation.

"Ok, I guess show me my choices then." His voice shook a bit but his eyes at least looked determined.

"You sure? Once we start it can't be stopped and you won't be able to look away." Ron nodded once sharply. "Ok let's do this." Ron tensed to stand but she put a hand on his shoulder keeping him seated. Slowly the white dissolved and a feeling like using a port key swept over Ron.

The room was opulent was the first thing that registered before Ron lost his grip on the ability to think retaining only the power to watch. Green tapestries covered stone walls, the colors in the detailed embroidery shifting subtly with the light pouring forth from the fireplace. Over stuffed furniture sat throughout the room like content sentinels, both imposing and comfortable looking. A beautiful rug inherently drew any eye glancing at the room to its centerpiece. Gleaming wood and intricate wrought iron, the bed rose in its four poster glory, another tapestry adding a private ceiling to the massive room's most interesting piece.

Sounds created a small symphony in the room, the roar of the fire, a violin charmed to play on its own, soft rustling of cloth against flesh, gasps and sighs escaping mouths. Ron's mind tried to pull away desperately trying to avoid seeing something private, something intimate but a gentle pressure pushed him back into the moment, drove him to look at what he wanted to avoid.

Clothes trailed to the bed, a tie on a chair with shoes and socks near by, a shirt carelessly thrown on the floor silk wrinkled terribly, a pair of slacks with boxers still mostly in them piled on the rug at the edge of the bed.

Metal jingled softly, gleaming steel chains against cold iron. Another gasp echoed and a deeper grunt sounded in counterpoint. The slick sound of wet flesh sliding against flesh chased the other sounds loud in the ears of the two on the bed.

Both figures had a lean compact look about them, muscles lightly developed and highlighted by beads of sweat trailing along them. One lay on his back dark hair wildly mussed by the pillow he writhed into. Arms stretched up over his head, locked into place by a set of padded manacles. Soft looking ropes tied his ankles to the backs of his thighs limiting his leverage as he tried to thrust into the body riding him torturously slowly. A simple fabric gag let only the most animalistic of noises pass from the bound man's lips.

The other stretched with cat like grace arms raised in the air, head thrown back so that his white blond hair trailed down to touch the tense muscle across his shoulders. He raised himself slowly, thigh muscles tensing till he nearly left his desperate captives flesh before slamming down drawing a plaintive growl from the man under him. Hands now braced on his captive's stomach the blond rocked back and forth, taking and releasing centimeters of the other man's length at a slow almost lazy pace.

Names, Ron's mind screamed shocked in to brief consciousness, they had names and he knew them they looked older but he knew these men. The pressure returned and he fell back into the state were he could only watch his best friend and worst enemy copulating in what had to be Malfoy Manor.

Draco sighed, shifting side to side slightly seeming to revel in the girth of Harry's length. The movement sent Harry's head back further into the pillow, eyes loosing what little focus they had without his glasses perched in their normal spot. Draco's teeth shone dully in the fire light as he leaned forward to catch the skin between Harry's neck and shoulder in them. A strangled scream tore its way out of the brunette's throat at the sharp pain and loss of tight heat as Draco moved forward. His arms strained against the bonds that held them.

Leaning back and fully seating himself again Draco admired the perfect imprint of his teeth, not quite deep enough to bleed but already showing the signs of a solid bruise. A sinister smirk crossed the blond's face as he picked up his pace rising nearly off Harry with every stroke. Harry watched as one of Draco's hands trailed off his stomach and started caressing his own neglected desire, matching the rhythm of his hips.

A trembling started through Harry's body as it fought to buck upwards and meet Draco's downward thrusts. Ron's mind made one last attempt to resurface, horrified that he was about to watch his friend finish inside the Malfoy brat. A voice seemed to whisper in his brain asking for his patience and for the life of him he couldn't resist.

Just as Harry looked ready lose it, Draco froze still as a statue save for the arm that reached back and gripped vice like around the base of Harry's length. Harry roared through his gag, eyes wide and nostrils flaring. Writhing as much as he could Harry fought to find his release in the heat he could still feel wrapped around him. Draco leaned down and whispered in his ear so soft that the dark haired man's own whining growls drowned out the sound.

Whatever the words, they seemed to calm Harry's struggles. Moments passed in near silence till Harry lay calm and passive under Draco. As Ron felt his consciousness returning he saw Draco start rocking slowly again slowly driving Harry to that animalistic state again.

The white landscape came back with a sickening lurch that left Ron lying on the pavement reveling in the coolness of stone under his cheek. A blush seemed to cover every available surface on his body, he was pretty sure even his eyes were red from embarrassment.

"You ok kid?" The woman had a smirk in her voice that didn't require Ron to look at it to know it was there.

"No," Ron spoke not bothering to get off the ground, "I just had to watch my friend, had to watch Harry Bloody Potter being forced to bugger that git Malfoy!"

"Well they were defiantly having sex, you English types have the strangest slang, you should be glad I've had some experience translating." The woman seemed unimpressed as Ron pulled himself off the ground and stood to face her, his face now red more from anger than anything.

"What the hell is wrong with you? That was awful! What could be worse than that?" He wasn't prepared for her to turn an icy cold stare his way.

"A lot of things could be worse than that, a hell of a lot of things are worse than that." She didn't wait for him to respond before continuing, "Are you ready for the next future? You can still stop, but then something that might just show you how much things can be will definitely happen." Her eyes seemed to bore into him, daring him to argue. Unable to deny years of careful training by his mother and eventually Hermione he meekly nodded unwilling to deny an angry female what she wanted.

This time the changing landscape didn't catch him by surprise. He wished it had be cause he knew that the image that greeted him was straight out of one of his nightmares.

The streets seemed to be littered with bodies, not nearly as many as the Battle of Hogwarts but so many more than should have been lying on a quite suburban street. Trees lined the street on either side, cars parked under their shade. One pink tricycle crumpled on its side, back wheel still spinning wobbly. A sky so blue it looked fake carried a few obscenely fluffy white clouds across it. The shadow from one of these drifted over the street touching the bodies in its wake.

A man in a sweater vest still clutched a newspaper under his arm even as the blood dried down the front of his clothes. One woman's business suit jacket fluttered in the wind unmindful of the burns that took her face. Ratty black converse stuck out from under blue sedan where the punk teen wearing them crawled only to die from blood loss before finishing hiding. Half a dozen others cluttered the though fare with their messy death.

One pair of eyes stared terrified at the center of the street, mousy brown pig tails trembling as her mother's blood soaked into the lace of her frilly new dress. Urine flooded her white tights she fought to keep her whimpers from attracting any attention.

Ron railed against the horror of the scene but was held back by what seemed like arms wrapping around him. Movement caught his eye and sent him back into the moment.

Long red hair trembled as sobs shook the owner's body. The woman took halting steps toward a dark haired man lying the on the ground. At first glance he looked like just another corpse but a rattling breath filled his lungs as the woman reached his side

She trembled over him for a moment before collapsing to her knees and scooping his head and shoulders into her lap. A wand fell from her grip in the process and rolled to rest along side another that lay inches from the fallen man's hand. Her hand trembled as it pushed a lock of slightly graying hair away from the faded lightning scar on his forehead.

Whimpers filled Ron's mind as he watched his sister hold his dying best friend. He didn't fight when the arms returned as rocked him gently while the moment flooded him again. Harry stared up at Ginny with a look of wonder through his cracked glasses. No sound came out as he mouthed the word 'sorry' to her. Ginny shook her head fiercely before kissing Harry on the forehead. Twin tears fell off her cheek diluting some of the blood that stained Harry's face. More joined them as Harry stared only at her ignoring the sounds of wizards apparating to the scene of the disaster.

Several wizards started towards the pair on the ground but Ginny fixed them with a glare and nodded her head to the black lines working their way outward from a wound in Harry's chest. The curse was vicious and only Harry's strength of will had kept him alive long enough to suffer from the curse. Most would have been dead in seconds but Harry got to have an audience as the life faded from the Boy Who Lived's eyes.

Ginny's head bowed with more sobs before she threw her head back in an inarticulate howl of grief. Ron fought harder than he thought he could desperate to at least offer some comfort to his sister. He was rewarded by coming to abruptly in the whiteness again.

"The fuck kind of sick joke is this?" Ron leapt to his feet, "My choice is weather to let Harry become Malfoy's sex toy or let him die in the street! How the bloody fucking hell am I meant to make a choice between those two options!" The woman watched him passively. His arms gestured wildly as if the throttle the very notion of making a choice.

"Your loincloth is coming undone," her tone was mild, bored even. The squeak Ron let out echoed off all the stone around them as he check to make sure nothing was dangling that shouldn't be. "Yes, it is a tough choice. The Powers aren't exactly known for making things easy. But I can tell you which ever one you choose is better than the third alternative. I'll give you a moment but then you have to tell me which you choose."

"Bloody hell," Ron whispered as the woman poofed away leaving him alone with his thoughts. He wasn't sure how long he'd been running things over in his head wishing for a smidge of Hermione's brilliance or Harry's pure instinctual luck when the woman tapped him on the shoulder.

"So, you got an answer or what?" She seemed genuinely interested in what he might say.

"Yea I've got an answer. You sure neither can be worse than that third option?"

"Positive," the cold surety of her answer was strangely comforting.

"It's going to be Draco then." Ron half mumbled at the ground.

"You are so going to have to be clearer than that, can't have you claiming we misheard you later."

"Bloody fuck fine! I'd rather Harry have weird kinky sex with Draco Malfoy than die in my sister's arms. At least if he is alive we've got a chance at rescuing him."

"So that's your final answer right?"

"Yes please don't make me say it again," Ron whined at her.

"And that is why I picked you ginger boy," the woman was gloating of all things. "The book worm and the chosen one would have picked the other one. One would have over analyzed the situation to death and I swear that boy has the worst martyr complex I've seen in … well months at least."

"So… I made the right choice?" Ron's voice was small, hopeful even.

"I think I'll let you see for yourself, but I'll give you a hint. In the end it's all about control, who has it, who needs it and what happens if you don't have it."

As the room faded out Ron prayed that he'd made the right choice.

The interior of Malfoy Manor came back into focus and with the horror of the other alternative still fresh in his eyes Ron was able to really look at the two men on the bed without the instinctual aversion to all things Malfoy clouding his mind.

Draco was back to riding Harry harder than before, his hand working himself quickly toward climax. For his part Harry rocked up in the channel above him deliberately, really using what little leverage he could get to the fullest. A groan passed Draco's lips as he started to lose his rhythm. Legs giving out as he let Harry's girth fill him completely as the glorious shock of orgasm took the Malfoy heir.

"Cum for me Harry," Draco hissed out as he rode out the spasms of his climax. Between the order and the clenching that surrounded him Harry couldn't have stopped his orgasm if his life depended on it. The two remained like that for a moment both seeming to try to hold on to the high as long as possible.

Boneless Draco slumped onto Harry's chest ignoring the squish of his own mess between them and sighing at the feeling of Harry slipping from him as the other man softened. The fire roared as Draco waited for his body to come under his control again. Slowly his arms reached up and unknotted the gag from behind Harry's head. The dark haired man worked his jaw a bit unaccustomed to the freedom it suddenly had.

Draco quickly put to use the mouth now available for something different. The kiss was soft, lazy, and even seemed sweet in the light of the fire. Clearly exhausted Draco glared at the manacles holding Harry's arms up. A whispered summoning charm had his wand at hand and used to unlock the magically enhanced bonds round his wrists. Another flick of his wand and Harry's legs were similarly freed.

Unbound Harry stretched once before curling himself around Draco. A blond head fit neatly under his chin even as a set of pale arms wound their way around Harry's middle. Their legs tangled easily and Harry deeply breathed in Draco's scent.

"Thank you." Harry whispered into Draco's hair.

"Hmph," Draco snorted, "Let's see if you still say that when you wake up in the wet spot." Harry's laughter should have seemed awkward but instead it just added to the warmth of the moment. Ron found him self drifting away from the scene as the two men fell asleep in each other's arms.

The street was still littered with bodies. The girl still had blood covering her clothes but she wasn't hiding from what ever had done this atrocity. Instead she was dangling from the grip of a man with insanity alight in his eyes. His wand rose to point at her trembling face, a curse intended to kill her on his lips.

A flash of color distracted the man from his intended victim, the horse patronus rushed at him knocking the girl from his grip. She had the good sense to run as her attacker turned to face the owner of the offending spell. His eyes narrowed at the vision presented to him.

Red hair danced in the wind as Ginny stared at the man who killed all the poor people around her. Her wand raised intent to keep him distracted till help could arrive. She knew her chances of defeating him were next to none. After all how was one witch going to take out the Boy Who Lived Long Enough To Become The Villian. At least that was idiots at the Daily Prophet had taken to calling him.

Ginny looked at her husband, the man who fathered her children and wondered how she could have missed the signs of his magic slowly eating away at his sanity.

"Harry, please it doesn't have to be like this. I still love you no matter what you've done."

"Then you're stupider than I gave you credit for. You should have killed me. Someone should have KILLED ME!" Harry shouted his last words at he turned a curse at Ginny faster than the eye could see.

Time seemed to slow down as the curse slammed into Ginny only to rebound and launch itself back at the caster. The scream that ripped from Harry's lungs didn't have a chance to stop echoing before a gurgling laughter replaced it.

"Well that went differently than I expected *cough* I guess love works even if you lose enough of yourself to forget loving at all," Harry sank slowly to his knees staring at Ginny clear of insanity for the first time in months, "I'm so sorry Ginny, please don't let them grow up like me *cough* James, Albus, Lily….PROMISE ME!"

"I… I promise," Ginny whispered watching in shock as her husband the newest dark wizard to threaten the country collapsed before her.

"Good," Harry breathed out as Ginny headed for him. Ron glided back to the woman and the white landscape far more peacefully than he thought possible.

"I don't understand what did control have to do with any of that?" Ron asked the woman as she smirked at him.

"What you call muggle born wizards, are generally given special courses in control over there magic to catch up to what those born in magical families learn just through normal interactions. Orphans born to magical families are typically adopted into magical families regardless of bloodlines for that very reason. The old moron you called a head master decided to break that rule for the greater good when he placed the Potter kid with those magical nulls that call themselves the Dursleys. And no one thought it wise to treat the Boy Who Lived like some muggle born." She paced back and forth clearly annoyed with the stupidity of all those lesser than her.

"So Harry didn't learn to control his magic like most of us?" Ron tried not to anger her more but he felt like he needed to know why those things could happen.

"Right, made him hella powerful but dangerous as a toddler with a nuke." She ignored Ron's confused look and continued, "Your sister could provide him with a measure of control, a family to keep himself together for. But in the end it wasn't enough."

"So he lost it and killed all those people?"

"Yep, it's not as uncommon as you'd like to think. The kicker was Draco. The Malfoy family drilled control into their children by any means needed for generations. Draco taught Harry control by taking it from him till he was ready to control himself."

"I'm going to hate myself for asking…but the third option what was it?" The woman eyed him critically before shrugging.

"You remember Tom Riddle yea? He never learned control. Without what control Harry was able to learn he would have become a Dark Lord so horrible that your people would have longed for the days of Riddle's war." A shudder ghosted across Ron's body at the thought. "Now then I promised you wouldn't have to remember after you made your decision."

"Wait I need to know this stuff!"

"Nope your mind is already changed from the experience; things will go as they should. Night kid." The woman waved playfully as Ron slipped out of consciousness and woke up in bed next to a soundly sleeping Hermione.

"Wake up! I just had the strangest dream!"

"Wha… What are you talking about," Hermione grumbled into her pillow.

"It was a dream about…..ah about ….I …. About a woman?"

"Ronald Weasley why in Merlin's name are you waking me up to tell me about a dream you had of another woman." Hermione's pillow slammed into the side of Ron's head with surprising force before she kicked him out of bed to sleep on the couch still wondering why he couldn't remember his dream.

"You know you are pure evil."

"So says the former vengeance demon."

"Hey I never denied my evil ways; you find ways to torture people while still carrying out your assigned good guy tasks. Seriously I think cheerleaders rank up there with bunnies on the evil scale." Anya grumped as they watched the Weasley kid trying to get comfortable on a couch several decades older than he was.

"Hm you maybe right but this is so much more fun than just guiding him along the path set before him. Besides," Cordelia smirked, "Dweebs like that tend to have the best assets."

"What, they aren't exactly rich are they? The standard of living in England hasn't gone down that much. Oh! You're talking about butts or is it interlocking parts?"

"Both in the case of some, speaking of I do believe its time for Xander's daily 'I am not just a glorified handy man' workout." Cordeila flicked a remote and turned on what looked like a very large flat screen.

"Ooo then we get Spike's 'I'm not bloody well lusting after Harris' masturbation shower."

"Maybe one day they'll both wise up and we'll get 'Why the hell didn't I do this before' sex."

"Oh a girl can dream can't she? Would have been nice for them too have been this blatantly obvious before I died. Cause you know threesome was most certainly on my bucket list."

AN: In case anyone was wondering this contains only tv series Buffy/Angel timelines and takes place less than a year after the fall of Sunnydale. The "dream" takes place in HP land about a year after the Battle of Hogwarts. Thank you for reading


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